


Remake Me Over

by OncefortheFun



Series: Quinntana Week 2014 [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:59:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OncefortheFun/pseuds/OncefortheFun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Quintanna Week 2014. Santana and Lucy meet for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remake Me Over

                The first time Santana laid eyes on Lucy Quinn Fabray, there were no fireworks. Santana’s heart didn’t skip a beat. The earth didn’t stop rotating on its axis, the stars didn’t fall out of the sky, Eros didn’t appear with an arrow to the chest. The ground didn’t shift underneath her feet, yet Santana knew that the universe was telling her to shut up and listen. The first time her eyes fell on her, and Santana stood before the awkward, shy, chubby girl who looked as if it was just her against the world, Santana felt the anger slip away from her, and for a moment the world felt still. It was kind of ironic considering that it was Lucy’s parents that were the cause of her anger in the first place. Well, Lucy’s dad, anyway, but all the same, Lucy made it all go away.

                It was on a Wednesday, a mere five days into her summer vacation, when her mom came home equally laden down with groceries and craft supplies, which should have been the first trigger, if Santana had been paying attention. Unfortunately, she was in the middle of coloring in Pooh Bear (her cousin, Tim, was only 6, and coloring with him reminded her of Brittany), and she was so immersed in finding the right shade of gold for him that she missed her mother’s entrance. “Someone’s moved into the old Carmichael Place!” Mrs. Lopez announced.

                Santana froze, a goldenrod color pencil in her hand. Her mom was looking dead at her, so it was too late to sneak away, but she really, really wanted to try to make a break for it anyway and just face her mother’s wrath afterwards. For some reason that Santana couldn’t quite figure out, her mother had taken it upon herself to be the neighborhood welcome wagon, and because Maribel was all about family, Santana always got dragged along. Santana wasn’t sure what it was about their neighborhood, but for some reason its sweeping manicured lawns, and overlarge houses weren’t conducive to actually raising children her age. The last neighbors to move in who ‘had a kid about her age’, had a son that was three years younger, and the day turned into free child care on behalf of the new neighbors.

                “Mija, get your jaw off the floor and help me with these bags. You two, sobrino. Vámonos!”

                If her abuela hadn’t shot her a glare from across the room, she would have taken her time getting up, but Santana had learned the hard way that you didn’t mess with that mean old woman. She sat her colored pencils down on top of her coloring book, and jumped up to help her mother with the bags. “Mom, what _is_ all this,” Santana demanded, once everything was laid out on the table, the flour next to the craft glue and ribbon, wicker basket on the floor next to the cat food.

                “You know I like to make a welcome basket whenever we get new neighbors.”

                Santana rolled her eyes, because yes _she knew_ that her mother liked to do that, but she didn’t understand why. She was sure that 85% of the stuff would end up in their trash can anyway. Tim, bless him, looked at all of the items taking over the kitchen, and turned to Mrs. Lopez. “Can I help, Tia Maribel?” Tim asked excitedly. The words were barely spoken before her abuela was hissing, “You better not have him playing in glitter or ribbons, Maribel, I’m not raising no sissy.”

                _Sissy_ was code for gay, and to her abuela it was the worst thing in the world a man could be. As Santana watched her cousin’s face fall a little, she bit her lip. She leaned in close to Tim’s ear, “Playing with glitter doesn’t make you a sissy; it makes you _fab_ ulous.” Tim let out a little giggle, as Santana tapped him on the nose. “Te amo siempre, Tim,” she added, just in case somewhere down the line it turned out that Tim was gay. Then he’d know, at least, that he’d always have Santana.

                They quickly put the groceries away, and Maribel got started on making the brownies. Once those were in the oven, she and Santana got to work on composing the basket. Maribel was a basketeer, or whatever you call a woman who spends most of her time making baskets for other people. When someone at the church was sick, she made ‘Get Well Soon’ baskets, her teachers all got baskets on the first day of school, and the last, her coach got a basket, when they dined with the mayor, she got a basket, the crossing guard got a basket. The first thing people asked Maribel upon receipt of one of her famous baskets was when was she going to make this into a business, and to that she always asked, “How can I put a price on something that brings me so much joy?”

                Mrs. Lopez liked making baskets so much, she even had a couple on standby in case a basket emergency came up. Once, Santana had mumbled that her mother was a basket case, and Maribel, upon hearing it beamed because she didn’t realize her child had insulted her. Even worse, she had a t-shirt made up with those very words on it, and she had worn it when she dropped Santana off at school, and all of the kids had laughed, until Santana had growled at them. Thinking back on it, maybe her mother _had_ known exactly how Santana had meant it.

                Maribel had a formula for new to the neighborhood. In those baskets along with a few deserts, they got a folder that listed all of the important numbers in town. Not the numbers to the hospital, or the police and fire department, or anything mundane like that, but to the best Chinese take-out joint (as well as a coupon for free fried rice with purchase of entrée), the info line to the movie theatre where you could listen to the playing times, the golf course so you could schedule a tee time, and the numbers of the elementary, middle, and high schools. She also slipped in a calendar that was marked with little reminders of the best that Lima offered: the county fair, the Holiday light festival at the Botanical Gardens, the Fourth of July fireworks display. There was a self-made coupon book filled with coupons for just about everything imaginable, a sample kit from the Lima Day Spa which included slippers, a nail care kit from the good nail salon (with, of course, a coupon for a free nail polish on your first visit), toothpaste and toothbrushes (always two) complimentary from Dr. Jones’ and family (and a coupon for a free teeth whitening), a packet of Homeowner’s Association approved flowers, a Farmer’s almanac, and of course Maribel’s famous brownies complete with a list of ingredients in case you were allergic to anything.

                Once everything was assembled, and neatly and delicately stacked into the basket, shrink wrap was put on, and Tim was giving the hair dryer to give it that bought in store look. He had done this so many times that he could do it just as perfectly as Maribel (Santana never had the patience for it), and then Maribel affixed the whole thing with a broad red ribbon, with white curlicues. “Perfect,” Maribel decided, looking at the finished product. She looked at her unfinished product and crinkled her nose. “Go change, please, mija,” her mother instructed.

                So while Tim got to go back into the living room to watch TV, Santana stomped upstairs to change into something ‘more suitable’. When she came back down, she and Maribel crossed the street, and went three houses down to the Carmichael’s old house, which happened to be one of the biggest on the block. Santana didn’t know much about the Carmichael’s except that they were old, they were unfriendly, and they smelled like cats. Mrs. Carmichael always had candy in her pocket that looked like she had found it in the attic and was on her way to throw it out whenever she offered it to Santana, and Santana still ran whenever she saw Mr. Carmichael lurking.

                Anyone would have been an improvement on them, Santana was sure, but Santana didn’t want to fuss about new neighbors. She wanted Brittany to be back from the Netherlands tomorrow, and she was still upset that Brittany’s family had dared to take her best friend away from her for the _whole_ summer. Santana had other friends, but they weren’t the same as Britt, and really what was the point of having a pool if your best friend was thousands of miles away and wasn’t there to tell you how hot you looked in your new swimsuits?

                The movers were still unloading the moving van when they left the house, gift basket cradled proudly in her mother’s arms. Maribel frowned slightly when she saw that the movers were Hispanic, but quickly smiled to cover over her displeasure. She said a quick hello to them as she continued up the walk to the front door. On the porch, Santana’s mom took a slight moment to adjust her hair, to run a smoothing hand down her clothes, and to appraise Santana before she confidentially rang the doorbell. Santana counted to 30 before the door opened revealing a well-dressed but portly and unattractive man in his late 40s or early 50s with a mop of blonde hair that did nothing for him. His face was puckered, as if he didn’t smile often, and red as if he actually had a hand in the moving though he clearly hadn’t. He had the kind of neck that made him constantly seem ill fitted in the clothes that he wore…all in all he was just an unpleasant looking man.

                He gave an unfriendly look as his gaze went from Santana to Mrs. Lopez. “We’re not looking for a maid at this time,” he said stiffly, starting to close the door.

                Mrs. Lopez lifted the gift basket to his eye line. “I’m not help, my husband is Dr. Antonio Lopez at Lima General.” Santana hated how it sounded like her mother said this to justify their existence in the neighborhood. “We’re you’re new neighbors, and we just wanted to say ‘Welcome to Lima’!”

                When the man didn’t have the dignity to look embarrassed, Santana decided right then and there that she didn’t like this man. She squeezed her mother’s hand, trying to convey to her in that little gesture that they should go, that this tool wasn’t worth their time, and that she didn’t understand why she did this when they got this kind of reaction, in some form or the other time and time again. Yet, her mom steadily pretended that his calling her the help hadn’t bothered her, but Santana knew her mom well enough to know that that wasn’t the case.

                She wanted to shout at this man for his assumptions, and for hurting her mom in this way, but out of respect for her mom, she said nothing, just quietly simmered with rage. “Oh,” the man finally said. He stepped back a step. “Judy? You’ve got guests.”

                He discourteously invited them into the foyer. Santana got to thirty when footsteps joined them. “Who is it Russell? I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

                “Neighbors. Mrs. Lopez and her daughter,” he turned to Santana to acknowledge her for the first time.

                “Santana,” Maribel answered.

                “Santana,” Russell repeated, when Judy was standing beside him. Judy was a thin woman with pale skin, and blonde hair that was as perky and fake as the smile that she extended to Santana and her mom. Santana couldn’t help thinking that she looked like a Stepford Wife. At the sight of her, she hid a little behind her mom, even though she was 13, and would be starting high school at the end of the summer.

                “Well, I’ll leave you to two hens to cluck. Where’s Lucy?”

                At the mention of her name, Lucy appeared shyly. Like Santana, she kind of peaked around her mother, even though she was the same age as Santana, and too old to be acting like that. The two girls just stared at each other for a full minute. Santana was by no means shy, but she hated meeting kids her age in front of adults because they automatically assumed that their shared age was enough to forge a friendship, and Santana didn’t like most people. She was already certain that she wouldn’t like this girl, either, based on her parentage alone.

                But Lucy didn’t seem to be anything like her parents. For one, she wasn’t blonde. Her brown hair was over long, coming down to hang on her back, and it was brownish red. She wore glasses that covered a pair of the most beautifully sad eyes that Santana had ever seen, and looking at her Santana thought that was phrase was fitting for the girl in general. She was a sad masterpiece. Her clothes didn’t fit well. She seemed almost scared of her own shadow. She was nervous and chewed on her bottom lip, something she was sure neither of her parents did, and she was right. Because as she looked the girl over, Judy snapped, “Lucy! Lip!”

                 Lucy opened her mouth, and her lip slipped out. “Sweetie, why don’t you take Santana, is it, to the back yard, okay?”

                 Lucy nodded, and started heading away from her mother, gladly it seemed to Santana. Santana shot her own mother a pleading look, before she followed after the girl.

                There was a swing set in the back yard, and this must have been where Lucy had been before their interruption because a book was perched carefully on the swing. This was where Lucy headed. “Our parents aren’t out here. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to,” she said, picking up her book. “I don’t care.”

                There was something about the way it was said, with a surprising hint of self-worth and importance that caught Santana’s interest and drew her closer to the imperfectly perfect girl.

                “What if I want to?” Santana demanded, sitting in the swing beside her. This earned her a smile.

                “Well, then I can’t stop you,” Lucy returned.

                “What are you reading?”

                Lucy showed her the book. It was one that Santana had read before and had actually liked. Santana realized that there was a lot about Lucy to like, and they spent the rest of the afternoon just sitting on the swings, talking.  

 

                “This is my friend Noah, but everyone calls him Puck.”

                “Puck? Do they really? As in the fairy?”

                “Fairy? Puck’s not gay!”

                “No,” Lucy blushed and hurriedly explained, “in Greek mythology Puck’s a fairy. Or a sprite.”

                “For realz? Oh, I’m so going to tease him about that the next time I see him, but no Puck doesn’t read. I don’t think he even knows how. His last name’s Puckerman and he thinks Noah is lame. Beside him is his best friend, Finn, the guy beside with the black hair and hat, that’s Mike, and then their friend Matt.”

                “He’s cute,” Lucy whispered. Santana was sure it was because if her dad knew who she was talking about, he would probably disown her or something.

                “Matt? You think Matt’s cute?” Lucy nodded solemnly. Santana smiled. “He’s my boyfriend.”

                Lucy’s eyes widened. “You have a boyfriend?” she questioned in awe. Santana looked at Lucy like she was an alien. “Don’t you?”

                Lucy nodded quickly. “Oh yes, of course, but he’s back home.”

                “Isn’t this your home now?” Santana questioned, confused.

                Lucy quickly nodded, ducking her eyes. “Yes.”

                “We don’t hang out or anything outside of school, but Matt’s cool. He’s quiet, and he can dance. Not as good as Mike, Mike’s a beast when it comes to dancing. He’s like a dancing ninja or something, and I’m not saying that ‘cause he’s Asian. Well, I kind of am, but everyone else says that too.”

                Santana flipped a few pages. “And that’s Britt!” Lucy could hear how Santana’s voice changed when she said that, and she didn’t like it. “Britt’s s my best friend in the whole wide world. She’s a bit of a ditz, but she’s so much fun, and she can dance like really.”

                Lucy found herself staring at the picture. “She’s pretty,” Lucy mumbled.

                Santana reacted to something in Lucy’s voice. “You are too, Fabray.” Lucy started to duck her head, but her father’s stern voice brought her head back up. _A Fabray never bows their head like some lowly grazing animal._ Her father was always quick to tell her what Fabrays didn’t do, and she could tell, every time he scolded her that he clearly didn’t think of her as a Fabray.

                 “Really?” Lucy questioned, a blush spreading profusely on her cheeks.

                Santana smiled, blushing, too. “Yes, really, and don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

                “No one’s ever told me that before,” Lucy whispered.

                So far Santana’s eyes had yet to leave her face. “Well, you are. Gorgeous, in fact, and if anyone ever says anything to the contrary, just tell me about it, and I’ll beat them up, okay?”

                Lucy nodded solemnly, even as she heard her father’s voice telling her off for the gesture. She didn’t care. Someone thought she was gorgeous! And not just any girl, but Santana, who was like the very definition of beauty, she actually thought that she was gorgeous!

                From that moment on, the sun may as well have rose and set in Santana’s eyes, as far as Lucy Fabray was concerned. Lucy had never met someone, certainly not any other girl, that was as self-possessed and assured of themselves as Santana was. Even though she’d only seen them in pictures, Santana had a ton of friends, yet it was to her house that she would come knocking on every morning, or would spend the night (when Russell was out of town), or it was over to her house which they would go. Santana had all the latest fashion magazines, and she would spend hours copying the glamorous models, trying out new lipsticks, eye liners, and mascara on Lucy, even though it all had to be wiped clean before she could go home.

                Her big mission for the summer was the Cheerios. “The Cheerios?” Lucy questioned, the first time Santana brought it up. Santana started to roll her eyes, but then stopped. Lucy noticed that she did that a lot, not the eye roll, but the stopping when she looked over at Lucy.

                “Yea, it’s the name of the cheerleading squad. The name is kind of lame, I know, but it’s like a big deal at McKinley High. It’s the only acceptable sport for girls to play. It’s really cool, though, because you get to wear these really short skirts to school, and everyone looks up to you and stays out of your way, and they compete in all these competitions all over the country. Sue’s the cheerleading Coach, and people say that she’s crazy, and she’s half harpy, half banshee, but she’s crazy good at what she does. McKinley’s been number 1 in the nation as long as I can remember. Me and Brittney are both going to be Cheerios, so you have to be, too.”

                Lucy’s lips pouted slightly at the mention of this other girl. She quickly covered up the reaction, but Santana hadn’t noticed because she was busy talking about the team, and what it would be like when the two of them were on it together. And just that simply it became Santana’s life goal to turn Lucy into a cheerleader.

                Lucy didn’t like the ‘cheerleading practices’ that Santana put her through, but she went along with it because if Santana was going to be a cheerleader, than she wanted to be one, too. So instead of complaining, she started getting up at 5:50 in the mornings, so she could be dressed by the time Santana showed up at 6:00 with a bottle of water and a banana, and they would jog together through the neighborhood. Lucy was sure that Santana could easily out distance her, but not only did Santana never run ahead of her, she stayed right at her shoulder, or a little behind, but never in front.

                To get Lucy to run faster, she found a method that worked better than her leading: Santana took the drill sergeant approach. She stayed by Lucy’s side, and would yell things at the shy girl, using whatever it took to force Lucy to force herself for just that little bit more, even insults. On one day when Lucy was feeling miserable, and tired, and Santana had said one mean thing after another (but none about the things that Lucy was the most paranoid about), she had started to cry. Santana’s look softened, but instead of apologizing she said, “Sue Sylvester is going to say things that are ten times worse, so if you can’t handle an insult from your friend, you’re not going to make it on the team.”

                The fact that Santana had called her her friend instantly made things better. Lucy hadn’t had a friend before. And although Santana acted like she didn’t care that she had made Lucy cry, she didn’t say any other insults for the rest of the day, though she did make Lucy run an additional mile.

                ‘Practices’ didn’t just consist of running. They did push-ups, sit ups, hand stands, cartwheels, handsprings, splits, pull-ups on a bar in the park, and anything else Santana could think of to get them into shape. They worked out first thing in the morning, took off the afternoons, and then did a lighter work-out in the evenings. Some nights Lucy had dinner with the Lopez’s, and every now and then she got to spend the night. She and Santana would sneak out after Mr. and Mrs. Lopez were asleep, and they would camp out in the backyard and pick out constellations together. The first night they did this, Lucy accidentally let her head fall onto Santana’s shoulder when she started to fall asleep.

                When she panicked and quickly pulled away, Santana had only laughed, and pulled her back into her side. Santana, she learned, liked to cuddle. She didn’t mind having Lucy close, either, which was a first for her because her parents didn’t hug. They barely touched each other, much less her. In one summer, she was sure that Santana had touched her more than her parents had possibly done in her whole life.

                As the summer wore on, Lucy began to change. The constant exercise Santana put her through, on top of the routine and change in diet that she had adopted for the past year, as well as an additional two inches in height slimmed her out considerably. On her next visit to the optometrist, she got contacts, and her glasses disappeared into a drawer in her closet. Although her new wardrobe consisted of the same clothes as before, they fit better on her smaller frame. It was Lucy’s idea to dye her hair so that it matched her mom, dad’s, and older sister’s hair color.

                Santana showed her how to walk with more confidence and swagger, and how to pretend that she was self-assured and in charge, even if she was filled with doubts. As long as Santana was beside her, she felt she could take over the world. Lucy felt so completely different from who she was at the start of the term, that she started wanting to be called by her middle name, Quinn, and her parents were eager to do so. Now when her father instructed her on the proper behavior of a Fabray, it actually sounded like he meant her as well.

                Quinn woke up one morning, looked at herself in the mirror, and actually thought of herself as being beautiful. When Santana came over later that day, she actually said those exact words, before planting a kiss on Quinn’s cheek. “What’s that for?” Quinn demanded, blushing.

                Santana only smiled shyly at her. “Because you rock, and when school starts we’re going to rock the place together.”

                Quinn slyly touched the spot on her cheek that Santana had kissed, and wondered if it was possible for life to be this good. Santana was a godsend, and because she wasn’t used to having good things in her life, she was certain that it wouldn’t last.  

                It turns out she was right.

                Two weeks after Lucy had fully become Quinn Fabray, Brittany Pierce returned home from her vacation. And at the very first sight of the smile that spread across Santana’s lips when she saw her best friend again, Quinn realized that their magical summer together was officially over.  

 

                No, the world did not shift when Quinn and Santana met for the first time, no stars fell from the sky, but the very first time that Quinn met Brittany S. Pierce, she knew without a doubt that her world had ended.


End file.
